I do not own Hetalia.

Chapter 8 The Red-eyed Stranger, The Cute Bartender And The Ex-boyfriend

Kiku stared at Alfred, who lay on his bed, back facing the dark-haired boy. loud music disrupted the peace in the room. Alfred hadn't even acknowledged him when he came into the room. Kiku knew the other had noticed his presence however, judging from the added tension in the boys back.

In the past, before his so carefully constructed happy bubble had burst apart, Kiku would've told Alfred that he was being impolite. Of course, the Alfred from the past would've never treated him this way.

So cold, so detached. Completely ignoring him.

It was very painful.

"…Alfred." He tried.

The back in front of him tensed, the music kept blasting into the room, but the blonde in front of him did not utter a single word. His own hands started to tremble and Kiku could feel a great weight enter his heart.

"Alfred," He tried again. With slight hesitation, he added. "Alfred, please…"

Immediately he lowered his eyes to the ground. Self-disgust and humiliation came upon him. Kiku was a proud man, proud men never begged. His father had taught him that he should always refrain from asking for favours, for asking help. His father had always told him the family pride went before everything, absolutely everything. Begging was the worst form of leaving ones pride behind, Kiku knew that. Yet he had not only spoken that blasted word, but with a tone that did not disguise his despair and sadness. But it did not matter, if it was Alfred, it did not matter.

Nothing really mattered.

"What did you say?" a somewhat surprised voice spoke up and kiku quickly lifted his eyes to lock them with the one he loved, toward his sun. But Alfred's eyes did not shine or twinkle, they were dull and numb. They were empty. And Kiku cursed every deity he knew because he couldn't seem to clear those eyes up.

"Alfred-"

"What just came out of your mouth?" Alfred seemed to sneer. "What pathetic noise did you just make?"

Kiku's eyes widened and he balled his fists. "Alfred, I know you're angry-"

Alfred shot up, rage seeming to settle on his face. But Kiku knew that if you looked careful enough, the rage was nothing but despair.

"Damn right I'm angry!" He screamed, he seemed to have decided that ignoring his boyfriend was not the way to go. Alfred took a step closer, and Kiku counted the wrinkles creasing his forehead. "I'm fucking angry! To have my own boyfriend betray me!"

Kiku sighed, he knew that Alfred was going to say this. "Alfred, I did not betray you."

Alfred laughed, a hard, mocking terrible laugh. "You didn't betray me, did you? Then what do you call telling fucking Matthias about where I was last Saturday? What do you call telling him I need help?! I don't need anything like that Kiku! Not from Matthias, not from Matthew and certainly not from you!"

Silence reigned between them then, Alfred panting from yelling and Kiku processing the words Alfred had said, they cut through him, because it made him face the reality he already knew to be true.

'I don't need you.'

Alfred did not need him anymore. The realisation came upon him like a sword tearing through flesh; He could not help Alfred anymore. He was done, it was over.

Kiku took an deep breath, willing his tears away. Alfred was still in front of him, waiting for a reaction, waiting for the opportunity to yell once more, to tell Kiku exactly why he was so displeased. When the first tear made it across his face, Kiku saw Alfred recoil back, as he had never expected his Kiku to have such a strong emotional reaction because of his words. For a moment, a single second, Kiku thought he saw the old Alfred again.

"…Alfred,"

'I don't need you.'

It was too late, Kiku could not repair Alfred's heart just like Alfred would not be able to heal Kiku's, not anymore. Alfred had changed, Alfred was rude, Alfred was threatening, Alfred was cheating on him and Alfred did not need him anymore.

"Let us end this relationship."

Kiku was a patient boy, he was patient, polite and some would even call him quiet. He possessed dark hair and dark eyes, some would say he they seemed as black as the night. Of course, Kiku supposed, if he was the night, than surely Alfred was the sun. His eyes the ever blue sky, his hair matching the colour of the sun, his personality bright, cheerful and unpredictable. They were so different from each other and many had wondered how they worked the relationship out. When someone had asked, Kiku would always just smile, barely daring to suggest that they complemented each other.

Which was a lie.

Kiku had known, even when their relationship was in full swing, that the difference in them was too great. He had known Alfred needed constant attention and adventure, needed new and exciting things to do, when all Kiku needed was to forever stay how they were that moment. Even in those days when their relationship had been at its best, with nights that would make Kiku blush and days that could make his heart flutter into his chest, even in those days. Kiku had known it wouldn't last, he had known he could never keep the American indefinitely to himself. Alfred may have cared about him, Kiku knew this to be true, but he would never be enough for Alfred. He could never met the pace Alfred set, racing forward in his life. He could never be that person Kiku knew Alfred craved; exciting, energetic, wild. Sometimes Kiku wondered if there could ever be someone who was just that.

They had met the third day of his first week at the American school. Kiku had been nervous and disorientated and Alfred had been kind and helpful. It was not long before a friendship floundered. One build on computer games and manga, superheroes and a particular love for McDonalds. Friendship turned to attraction, and attraction soon turned into something that could be best described as love.

It had been wonderful, something Kiku had never dared to believe could happen to him. He had been raised all his life to resist temptation and restrict himself. But there, in Alfred's awaiting embrace, he could be himself completely. All the while knowing that the person he was would most likely not be enough for Alfred.

The first sign their relationship was cracking was the night Kiku found Alfred in bed with a bottle of hard liquor, laughing and joking with two scarcely dressed females. Kiku had ran away and Alfred had followed. But Kiku had realised that he was starting to lose his boyfriend, so apparent that Alfred was seeking other people to entertain himself with. They made up, but panic lingered.

Kiku knew then, knew it without a doubt. He was not good enough for someone like Alfred.

Be that as it may, Kiku had still loved –yes, loved- the other with all his heart. Their relationship lasted for one year, ten months and sixteen days. To his surprise, he was the one that ended it. Kiku had seen how devastated Alfred was after Arthur's dead. He had seen the once happy blonde revert to a mere shell of himself. He had seen Alfred lock up his heart and throw away the key, not for him to find. Kiku had tried, though, he really had. But Alfred could be mean if he wanted to be and everything he said seemed to be strengthening the forever present doubts in his heart.

It had hurt.

To see Alfred broken, to hear him say those things he would've never said before, to see him do things he would've never done. To see the eyes the colour of the sky cloud over and raining tears that never seemed to fall. His sun had left him, replaced by someone Kiku didn't recognize anymore.

Kiku had prayed everyone to forgive him, to forgive that he could not handle it anymore. That he could not watch Alfred destroy himself anymore. He could not stay with someone who clearly had enough of him.

But what now? Now that Alfred seemed to have returned, months after their break-up?

Was he really ready to face Alfred once again? When his heart was still in shatters and when Alfred did not seem to have regained the sky-blue eyes he once possessed? He did seem different, but Kiku knew without a doubt, that Alfred was not who he used to be, not even close, no matter how much he tried to hide that fact.

Kiku guessed he had no choice but to see what would happen from here on out.

There's wasn't much he could do right now, it was far too late to make any progress searching if Harris Garrison spoke the truth. Though Matthias didn't think the bastard of a man could've had the brains to evade the police in a murder trial, he didn't really believe the man was responsible for his best friend's dead. But still, the big blonde was itching to nail the man for something. Matthias would hunt down the man's friends the following day, he would hunt them down and question them and if there was anything, anything at all that pointed towards the fact that Harris Morison was responsible for Arthur's dead, he would personally murder that man. Because Matthias was a man of the law, but he didn't have any patience for child abusers – sexual predators- and you didn't fuck with any of Matthias's special people. Right now, he needed some calm, a chance to forget all the horrible images he had formed into his head. In his time in the force Matthias had been confronted with many horrible things, children were victims so many times and it seriously hurt him so much to think that his beloved friend had been one of those, those children which fate had forever left, who looked at you with big frightened eyes, who could never really have faith in life again. Matthias knew he was being unreasonable, there were so many children who were mistreated, that didn't mean that Arthur was a different case. He should be able to handle this as he handled any other case. Professional, detached, like a good little policemen. But he was still human and this was personal.

The big blonde swallowed his rum in one swing, he had lost count how many he had drunken already. The bartender (short and cute, by the way), accustomed to seeing miserable faces and experienced enough to see when a person needed another drink, promptly handed him another glass. the pitying (but somehow also) stone-cold glance was free of charge, but Matthias expected a steep bill at the end of the night. Well, it was good then that he didn't give a flying fuck about the stupid bill. A movement to his right got his attention and another men sat on the stool next to him. Which was strange, the whole night people had avoided the big blonde man, who looked so furious he could kill. Glancing to the right, Matthias noticed everything was moving and blurry in front of his eyes, he hadn't really realized how drunk he actually was. He could just make out shockingly white hair and equally fascinating red eyes, before he gave up and moved to stare miserably at his glass of liquor again. His vision swam too much and he tiredly closed his eyes. For a moment deluding himself that someone would come and pick him up.

"There you are!" a English voice broke him out of his drunken daze. Matthias pathetically rose his head from where it had been resting on the counter top of the bar. "I've been looking all over for you!"

He turned around and could just make out that is best friend was standing a few metres behind him. This action proved to be too much, though, for another wave and dizziness came over him. With a groan he returned his head to its previous resting place. "whatta you doin here, Art?" he managed to speak, voice muffled by the hard wood. Matthias's vision was obscured by the table, but he could hear Arthur taking a seat next to him.

"I told you, I was looking for you." Arthur snapped, he sounded very irritated. "I got a call from one of your colleagues." The word 'colleagues' was spoken with an extra amount of prissiness and bitterness, making it extremely obvious that this 'colleague' had successfully pissed the blonde of. "He told me what happened and that you were probably out drinking yourself to death. Said that it would be best if I would check on you. Lazy git! Wouldn't even look for you himself."

Matthias giggled; same old complaining Arthur. He turned his head a little bit so that the scowling Brit was in his vision. "'probly knew y-you're my best friend. Art."

Arthur shot him a nasty look. "Don't suck up to me, I'm upset. It's three in the sodding morning and I just wasted two hours of my night to look for you."

"Wha das it matter?" Matthias slurred. "You don' 'ave work tomorrow."

"Shut up. You try raising two teenage boys, see how much you need your sleep." Arthur turned to the bartender who was not-so-subtly eyeing a woman a few seats over. "Sir, a beer please." The other man nodded and went to fetch a glass.

Matthias grinned in the countertop, before he winked at his friend. "Thought you were tired?"

"Shut up."

A comfortable silence swept over them as Arthur sipped his beer and Matthias kept lying there, his own glass of scotch forgotten. His intoxicated eyes couldn't help but follow the other's every movement. He noticed that the blonde indeed seemed to be tired, with bags under his eyes and tousled hair. Guilt crept up on Matthias, it was a late hour after all. Sighing, he propped his head on his hand and lifted himself up. Now that he wasn't hanging over the bar, he could really see his friend. Get lost staring at those eyes, those evergreen eyes that seemed to sparkle, even in the dark dirty bar.

Arthur noticed his change in position and returned his stare. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, as if doubting he should talk at all, before the small blonde opened his mouth once again.

"Do you want to talk about today?" his voice sounded unsure and weak. Matthias was momentarily struck by the change in character, before he remembered that Arthur didn't like to talk about his work with him. That Arthur had always possessed a certain aversion to the occupation of a policeman. It seemed he never really wanted to hear what Matthias encountered every day; the destroyed families, the raped women, the robbed men. Arthur did seem to respect Matthias and everything he did though, he just seemed to be…afraid of talking about it. He would've guessed it had something to do with Alfred's arrest if he hadn't known that Arthur had been the same way even before that.

"No…" Matthias managed to get out and Arthur raised one of his impressive eyebrows. "I'm just…frustrated…"

"Because he is free again?" Arthur prodded, still without the familiar steel in his voice. "Because the trial was lost?"

Matthias moved his eyes away from Arthur's searching ones and his shoulders slumped. "W-we worked on this case for six months, SIX months, Arthur." The big blonde moved his head into his hands. "And now he is free again, all because of a stupid mistake, all because of me…"

Matthias ground his teeth and felt the boiling anger sober him up a bit. He balled his fists and let them fall on the counter with a satisfying bang. "Again free! Free to kill and hurt whoever he wants." His clenched fists started to tremble and from the corner of his eyes he saw several people looking at him warily. "And it's all my FAULT!"

Silence met his statement and Matthias didn't dare look at Arthur, because what would he see in those green eyes? Fear? Disgust? Pity? The man had obviously heard everything that had happened that afternoon and evening, or else he wouldn't have thought twice about going out in the middle of the night to find him.

A hand came to rest on his cheek and guided his face upwards. Before he could even react, Arthur forehead came to rest on his. Arthur's eyes were closed and Matthias closed his too. This was not a romantic gesture, he knew this, this was purely an consoling one. But it was enough to bring calm to his aching heart.

Then a soft voice spoke words he would not ever forget.

"Find out what you have to do to make it right, and then do it. Don't look back, think about here and now."

Matthias took a shuddering breath. "Arthur…?"

Whispered words answered. "A very good friend once told me that, when I was in quite a pitch. He said to me; 'Find out what will return the peace within your heart, get it, and never, ever look back.' Solid advice really, but I'm a sentimental fool in regards to looking at the past."

Matthias's eyes opened and he noticed that Arthur's were still closed. There was a calm, almost serene expression on his face.

"But still. The notion that you can get what you want if you just try hard enough has always been thrilling to me. No matter how much of a lie it may be, it still suggest that there's always a chance, it still suggest you can make your own future come true. I'm sure my old friend did not believe one word of his own advice, but just like pretending to believe calmed his heart, it calmed mine to."

Green eyes opened to stare into his and a breath-taking smile found the face Matthias adored so. "What I'm meaning to say is this. If you're not happy with something, fix it. Even if it doesn't work out, you have to keep believing it will be okay."

Arthur moved away from him, and Matthias could help but move a little forward. "Do not despair, Matthias, do not give up. You'll get this guy, one way or another."

Gentle fingers found his cheek again.

"Just remember to not let it damage your kind heart."

"Hey guy, you okay?" A voice broke through his subconscious and Matthias realized with a shock that he had fallen asleep at the bar. With a wild jerk of his head he rose, which he did entirely too fast. Afterwards, his head was spinning like mad. "Woah, there!" The same voice spoke again, and two arms prevented him from falling of the stool he was currently sitting on. The same hands steadied him, and the same voice spoke again. This time, Matthias could see the face those arms belonged to.

"Dude! Maybe you should lay down the booze, not everybody has an awesome tolerance with alcohol like me!" Shockingly white hair, so white it momentarily blinded his compromised vision. But the white hair wasn't the most unusual thing about the man's appearance. No, the guy had the most sharp red eyes Matthias had ever seen. They seemed to cut right through him, with a fierce violence. Those were the eyes Matthias had seen a lot when he was on the job.

In the farthest corner of his brain, a little bell of alarm went off. Something about the person's appearance irked him to remember something. But his head seemed to be filled with cotton balls and he couldn't remember clearly why he should be alarmed by seeing the man. He had never seen the man, right?

"Dude, if you keep staring at me like that I'm going to get the wrong idea." The man spoke with amusement littering his voice. "Totally not into that."

"Wha-" It took a moment for Matthias to process those words. "No! Buddy, I'm not…like that…" (yes he was, kind of, gender never really mattered to him)

"Dude, wouldn't blame ya," The man spoke again and Matthias was beginning to find him obnoxious. "I would totally wanna get with this too." He gestured to his (slim but athletic) body.

Matthias lay his head on the table, he was not in the mood for some crazy man with a slight German accent (he just realized) praising himself. The headache was already forming behind his temples and he was once again reminded why he shouldn't drink ever again.

"Rough day?" The self-proclaimed awesome man asked him.

Matthias groaned again. "Don't you have somebody else to bother?" He tried, not really giving a damn that that was an incredibly rude thing to say. Then again, even when he was sober he generally didn't really care about that.

"Nope, my companions are mad at me for ditching them earlier today and now Luddy has retired to the bathroom with his incredibly adorable husband, they've been in there for more than thirty minutes, so I really don't want to go look for them. Yanno?"

"…Ugh…"

"I know! And you seemed like you could use some company." The man grinned. "Nikolas!" The barman turned to the obnoxious guy and raised an eyebrow.

"…Yes?"

"Another beer for me and the gentleman! Put it on my tap!" Hadn't the stranger just told him he should 'lay down the booze'?

The bartender –Nikolas, apparently- looked at him with could only be described as pure annoyance. "…No."

Red-eye-man's expression changed from happy-go-lucky to confused. "What? Why not?"

"Have you forgotten how steep your tap is? I'm only accepting cash from you. Just like how you paid for your last beer."

"…" His drinking companion seemed to be at a loss of words. "…Nikolas…"

"Besides, your big companion seemed to have had enough, don't you think?" Nikolas waved a unimpressed hand at Matthias. Who tried to protest, but only a groan came forth. His head was so heavy and his eyelids were dropping and dropping. Maybe the cute bartender was right; maybe drinking another was not the best idea.

He could hear the two people continue to argue, but wasn't really paying attention to those two. His head was dropped again, and he was on the verge of sleep, only little straps of conversation slipping through his intoxicated mind.

"-don't tell me something I already-"

"-Nikolas! Nikolas! Nikolas!-"

"-Shut up, there is a policy-"

"-Please! Please! Sweet, handsome, awesome-"

"-Stop talking, I swear to god-"

"- LukasLukasLukas, GAH! Damn it! That HURT!-"

A few moments later a glass of water was placed before him, he guessed by white-hair man. He blurrily blinked at the glass, before looking next to him, where the other was unhappily eying his own glass.

"What happened to the beer?" Matthias questioned.

The slender man gave him a grimace. "Nikolas is hard-core man, this is all I got from him." He zipped his drink. "Asshole."

Matthias once again turned to his drink, shrugged and drank it in one long tug, before setting it on the bar again with a loud tap. If it had been vodka instead of water he wouldn't have tasted the difference, luckily it had been water.

Obnoxious man laughed. "Had a tough day, didn't ya?"

Matthias vaguely nodded. "You got no idea… Fucking awful day. Long one too."

"Care to enlighten me?"

"No."

"Aaaah, dude, I've got all the time in the world! My day was extremely unawesome too! And I can't even drown my sorrows away!"

Matthias raised his eyebrows. "I doubt your day was a bad as mine."

"Really? I got my ass kicked today, twice. I had to meet with the most intimidating and nerve racking person on the planet who I swore I would never meet again AND I found out that my ex was going to get remarried. Top that!"

If Matthias had been sober, he wouldn't have responded. He would've just ignored the obnoxious person and gotten his merry way. But he was very far from being sober, and just this one time he could use a listening ear. A listening ear that wasn't attached to a person ten years his junior. So even though all his police senses were kicking his ass for giving in, Matthias mouth opened and he started talking. First he told the other about how much he had cared for his best friend and how lost he was now that he was gone, after that he told the stranger about the blonde's dead and the unfairness of it all. He told him about his difficult job of taking care of two grieving teenagers, he told him of their trip to London and the horrible things they had learned. He told him about Harris Morrison and Elizabeth Grey, about Cecille and Armound Bonnefoy, about love and hate and everything in between.

Eventually, just before he fell into a deep sleep from which he would wake only the following day, he told the sociable stranger about the boy with the greenest eyes he had ever seen and the smile that could pull him from the deepest depths known to men.

The man with the white hair and piercing red eyes continued to smile, only agreeing that green was an awesome colour for eyes (though red was still the awesomest colour to have). His eyes twinkled, no doubt remembering his own special someone. In his drunken mind, Matthias could still see the initials doodled on the man's napkin; E.H.

Yes, was Matthias last thought as he drifted off, the fake smile the other man had worn fresh in his face, the world truly was a cruel place, for it gave you tremendous love, only to rip it away when you least expected it.

The following morning Matthias woke up in his hotel room, with a pounding headache, a file taste in his mouth and two teens eying him disapprovingly.

A small card in his pocket.

Gilbert Beildschmidt.

Officer at the eastern district police centre.

-Matthias, come by the office soon; I think I'll be able to help you.

Stay Awesome.-

Letters to you.

Frog,

Everything here is fine. Elizabeth is very good company, although it's a little awkward that she had the same name as… you know, her. Gilbert is insufferable, loud and annoying. He keeps demanding that he is the boss because he had found the building first. He wanted to name it too, but came no further than 'the abandoned building'.

Financially, we manage, though I think you can imagine that we aren't really gentlemen about it. We should take what we get, Gilbert instructed us. Off course, he and Elizabeth have been doing this sort of thing longer than I have.

How is your mother? You aren't smothering her too much are you? I swear if I would have a son like you I would be ill too.

See you soon,

Arthur Kirkland.

I had a lot of trouble with this one and I think it shows in the writing as well in the number of words. I hope it was good enough for you guys...

Next time; Gilbert comes fully into the picture! With special flashbacks concerning Hungary/Elizabeth and a whole lot of Awesome!Gilbert.

Care to tell me how this chapter was? The next will be a little lighter, but will contain a LOT of new information. I had to write this chapter to have that transition. Don't worry! The next chapter will not be taking as long to update as this one. How I know this? Simple! It is almost finished.

Any remarks? Good? Bad? Please review! They really are the kick-me-up I need once in a while.